I'm going to post the beginning of a book I'm writing and I'd like your feedback. Here is what I propose: Read the beginning few paragraphs with the understanding that this will be the telling of a six year journey through fibromyalgia and my other ailments. So read and let me know if you'd keep reading this book, or if it's best kept for myself.
Thank you in advance :-)
I awoke on my couch, facing eviction, the power being cut off and working a job which was entirely too physical for my body. My wife and children were gone, left to Texas because I had been a violent man. I had curbed my physical outbursts, but was still difficult to live with. I was full of delusion and victimization and all the pain medication and muscle relaxants I had left. I didn't want to live another day, not without my family. I had the two dogs for company, and they loved me but it was hard to love them back when they reminded me so much of what I had lost. I looked into the empty room my sons had shared; toys still lain on the floor. I laid back on my couch, which had became my bed, since I wasn't sleeping in our bed. I lived a life of busting tires all day, six days a week, 70+ hours a week and staying awake all night. As I laid there a thought bubbled up from the center of my mind like the message from an old '8 ball"; all I had was myself for company and I hated myself. I was an ass-hole and a bully. As I realized this the room began to fade into so much black nothingness and I was there floating by myself.; outside of time and space with no beginning and no end. As I realized that this was the fabric of reality, I knew myself completely and my body faded. I was simply the energy of me, this observer. I looked back and saw the fabric of my negative energy threaded through the lives of my family causing so much of our distress and problems. I saw it changing the beautiful nature of my children. I saw it causing my lovely wife to bend and change. I could feel her pain and fear in my deepest heart and I awoke.
I sat there staring into the room, blinking at the vivid clarity of it all just as I had done so many years ago when I received my first pair of glasses. Trees weren't just green cotton balls; life wasn't the fabric of my dreams. I understood into the center of a deep placed I had long ago suppressed, that we are all connected and I had been so very irresponsible with my part in it all. I had been irresponsible in my role as a father, as a husband, as a friend and as a human being. I was selfish, judgmental, and so egocentric my victim mentality was like a suit of armor. I saw it so clearly of myself and I stripped myself naked unto the light of truth. I had fought against the worst of myself for so long. I was tired of shirking, tired of being ashamed of my true self. I turned and fought, finally. I closed my eyes, I grit my teeth, clenched my fists and faced it. When I opened my eyes I expected to be facing demons, shadows, enemies of some sort and what hit my like a blade to my heart was the sight of myself, pale face in my hands weeping at what I had done. I saw this man, who couldn't stand tall; who had faced his whole life as though visited by the ghost of Christmas past. His shoulders were slumped and his heart was wallowed in sorrow and despair. I became aware of the energy, call it atmosphere, esp or however you can understand it, but I became aware of a looming choice. I felt it with every fiber of my physical being. Like my own spidey-sense; my karmasense was tingling like crazy. The fight or flight reaction was pulling like the riptide of the oncoming of a tremendous wave. I didn't care, I had made my choice and as the wave crashed I covered that man with my body. In the churning destruction I was washed away, split into so many layers of facade as the cinema of my life was shown before me. Each scene; a layer of delusion ripped away, exposing me, skinning me alive. I didn't falter, I didn't shirk. Layer after layer I watched as karma; my energetic responsibility for the threads of delusion, hate and judgement I had woven into reality were heaped upon my shoulders. I used those scenes flashed before me as bubbles of truth to follow to the surface if I were to survive. As I pressed into these scenes, no longer a witness; neutral, I became. Without knowing or noticing perhaps I became that figure I had seen. My face in my hands weeping as the pain I had wrought on others only to disguise myself, to cast my view from who I was. Their pain was to alleviate my own... the source of my shame shown before me as the last load of karmic weight. I stood and assumed it all unto my being. I was one again, like I had been so many years ago as a child. I was washed clean while not removing my past. This wasn't a fragmentation, it was a reunification. I could stand tall because I am a good person. I have done bad things, but I was no longer running from them. Stripped to near spartan living I walked my talk every day.
I had been shown the subtle luring nature of that inner space I came to call the cave. I walked every day being as present as I could be. I had seen the shields of delusion and their consequences and I rejected my reality and stood for truth come what may, how ever I may be judged or scrutinized I will walk in the light of truth. My first tool was to openly call bullshit on myself. When I was being weak and letting others do more work than I on the job I would call bullshit on myself. At first it took stepping into the restroom to actually face my reflection and call it out. "you're being an asshole, you're using and manipulating them and it IS NOT RIGHT" I had to affirm it in reality, not the vacuum of my mind because I can change the facts as I see fit in there. Out here in reality, if I spoke it aloud, I couldn't take it back. I foiled my sneaky and underhanded ego-self this way. It was what it was, I could not change it. Those moments were my foot holds, my anchor points for when I fell, and I fell a lot in the beginning. I began to see again, as I did in that moment of clarity, the sun warmed me, the coffee was richer and I was real, and I was ok. I began to rebuild myself in this way. I was raising two boys into manhood and I couldn't define it and the shame of my example to them thus far was like a burning coal for the engine of my purpose. To be a good person.